Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky.

Fate" Eve said with a sigh "I'm not sure fate had to burn up your car to get the point across," Shane said, buckling his own seatbelt. "No, not that. The hearse. I'm going to name it Fate." Shane stared at Eve for a long, long few seconds, then slowly shook his head. "Have you considered medication, or-" She flipped him off. "Ah. Back to normal. Excellent.

I think we can all agree. SHINEY.

Hannah leaned against the wall. "Mind if I call shotgun?" Since you're carrying one? Feel free.

Stop being so..." "Charming?Attractive?Irresistible? "I'm going with arrogant.

Shane looked…pale. Pale and shaken and—how predictable was this?—pissed.

Here. Have a Coke. That’s good for a sore throat, right?” “Good for everything,” Shane croaked, and took the extended cold can with good grace. “Thanks.” “You owe me a dollar,” Eve said. “I’ll add it to the five thousand you already owe me, though.” He blew her a kiss, and she stuck her tongue out at him, and that was the end of the subject, thankfully.